Another Day at the Office
by Kavery12
Summary: More bad guys, more ass-kicking to dish out, just another day at the office for the USS Impala and Enterprise until the new guys show their mettle and our favourite crews get a pleasant surprise.


I do not own Star Trek 2009, Supernatural, NCIS or NCIS: LA.

_I shouldn't. I really shouldn't. But in_ The Measure of a Security Officer I_ said there was a USS_ Los Angeles_ and and and there was Admiral Vance and don't tell me you wouldn't have gone there! Plus, it's way too much work to come up with my own good OCs (bad ones are way easier) and so much more fun to play with the awesome existing characters. _

_However, at this point in time I would like to say that I'm not planning to make any of my recent forays into other fandoms large. This universe is still primarily Star Trek/Supernatural. But it'd be easier to bring in non-idiot guys on the Starfleet side (and remember that they exist) if I have preformed characters to use as minor supports._

_Let me know what you think!_

* * *

><p><em>Enterprise<em>

"Well, now we know why Admiral Vance was so willing to overlook that little incident with the desserts and Commander Douglas," Dean commented dryly as Jim whistled in admiration.

Apparently Admiral Vance believed in crazy captains himself, having placed two in charge of the USS _Los Angeles_ of Douglas fameand the USS _Washington_, an older Miranda-class ship. To his credit, both ships had been fairly effective even if their captains were unpopular and it stood to reason that sooner or later the ships would cross paths with _Enterprise_ or _Impala._

The USS _Los Angeles_ was a brand new Constitution class ship, put into operation a year ago and since then she had had no less than four captains, all of whom been deemed incompetent and removed from duty or killed in action until Admiral Vance had been given command of the ship when the aging Admiral Eidenbach was found to have early stage Alzheimer's.

The current captain had been handed a really crappy situation to handle. Seriously, it was an _Enterprise_-calibre mess and damn if the _LA_ had almost squeaked out of the problem with some sharp piloting and really good bluffing.

Still, almost only counted in horse shoes and hand grenades. _Enterprise _and _Impala _could attest to that and apparently their creative handling of the Douglas incident had endeared them to Admiral Vance, who had asked Admiral Pike if he couldn't borrow Pike's two wild cards in an attempt to spring his own.

"Spock, give me the details again," Kirk requested, eying up the situation carefully.

"Certainly captain. Two days ago, the _Los Angeles_ was assigned to an extraction mission of an important Starfleet ambassador from Tango 9-B when negotiations broke down. The _Los Angeles _arrived on scene without incident and the away team succeeded in securing the ambassador, one Laura Dunne. The planetary ruling council then enacted an orbital blockade and the _Los Angeles_ has been attempting to break through for the past twelve hours. They succeeded in forcing a communications probe past the blockade but evidently could not extricate themselves."

"Great. This is an _Enterprise_-sized problem, why the hell are we here?" Dean griped.

"Distraction, my friend. I requested you to play the damsel in distress." Kirk smiled sunnily as the _Impala_ crew glared daggers at the _Enterprise_ captain. "Look, I can't trust another courier to play the part. We all remember what happened with the _Hokkaido._" Dean winced. Captain Hiroshi was still pissed about being used as Klingon bait, especially since Kirk had forgotten that not every Miranda-class ship was as resilient as the _Impala_.

"Come on, it'll be fun," Kirk cajoled and the _Impala_ crew glanced at each other. Play damsel for Kirk and probably (definitely) get into a firefight or go on the galaxy's most boring courier run out past where there were quadrants into black, barren space to a tiny science outpost. Pike had been quite clear on that point – no ships wanted to help the insane _Enterprise_ and no one wanted to go on a five month, boring-as-all-hell run to the middle of nowhere with not even a chance of pissed Romulans to spice things up.

"Fine," Dean agreed with poor grace. "What's your idiot plan that's guaranteed to put more carbon-streaking on my favourite ship?"

* * *

><p><em>Los Angeles<em>

"You're telling me that they're not here yet?" Callen asked with tired patience.

"Sorry sir," the petite brown-haired communications officer replied, managing to sound both cheerful and apologetic at the same time.

"Come on Nell, can't you tweak the communications more?"

Lieutenant Nell Jones shrugged. "That last hit we took fried my arrays, sir. I can't scan out for communications, only receive them and even that's a stretch."

Captain G (yes, the initial was his name, thank you very much) Callen scowled, blue eyes focused on the fact that he was not getting the answers he wanted. The damn probe had gone out thirteen hours ago and even if Vance thought Callen crazy, he wouldn't strand a brand new Constitution class ship in the middle of a really stupid situation. So where were the reinforcements?

"Eric, what's the status on those engines?" he demanded.

There was a crackle over the comm, a bang and an 'ouch!' before his harried engineer replied "The same as last time! I'm good at what I do but that hit totally destroyed our cooling system. I need more time!"

"Time we got," Callen muttered, eying the blockade around him. They didn't want to pick a fight with the _Los Angeles, _the _Los Angeles_ didn't want to pick a fight with the natives. Win-win stalemate and right now Callen would take that stalemate as long as it would hold.

"Captain, we have an incoming transmission. It's the _Impala_." Nell reported briskly.

Callen's bad mood intensified. "The _Impala_? She's a courier. What good is the _Impala_?" Even if Captain Winchester had a reputation for being a crazy son of a bitch, the _Impala_ was awfully small to try and handle this situation on her own. He shook his head. "Fine, patch it through."

The _Impala _was staggering through space like she was drunk, phaser scoring all over her hull but on the encrypted channel, the interior of the ship was fine and her captain remarkably calm for someone whose ship was leaking plasma like a sieve.

"This is Captain Dean Winchester. I don't have much time because the transmission can't hold long, we're experiencing 'communications trouble,' so listen close," the sandy-haired captain snapped. "I'm going to draw off a few of those ships. You need to be on standby. The _Enterprise_ is hiding a few parsecs away. When our plasma trail's big enough to give her the element of surprise, _Impala _will run a distraction, _Enterprise _will attack and you've got exactly one minute and twenty three seconds to get the _LA _out of there. Understood?"

Callen blinked and realized this must be one of the infamous, patented _Enterprise-Impala_ rescues, destined to be hair-raising but ultimately successful.

"Good enough for us."

"All right then. Keep a weather eye out for _Enterprise_ and don't be worried, Kirk may be crazy but his pilot's damn good and his first officer won't let you get busted up. Mostly." With that, the _Impala_ cut transmission and continued wavering about, broadcasting an emergency signal.

"Well, that was…reassuring," Callen remarked sarcastically. "Red alert, everyone. Sam, stop crying over the phaser arrays and get up here, things may get hairy."

There was a muttered curse directed Callen's way over the comm and the lift swished open. Callen's hulking first officer strode onto the bridge. "I was not crying over the phaser arrays," Commander Hanna retorted before taking up his customary position beside Callen. "I was trying to repair them after _you_ diverted power to the engines instead of the shields."

"I was trying to get us out of here!"

"Clearly it didn't work."

"Gentlemen." Both commanding officers froze. "I believe Captain Winchester said we could be experiencing extreme peril in a few minutes?" Commander Hetty Lang calmly stared down the bickering pair despite being half their size.

Callen still wasn't sure _why_ Hetty was aboard the ship. She had the political clout and experience to be an admiral, the expertise to be a captain and the sheer badassery to be head of IO. And yet she chose to be the science officer of a brand new ship with a brand new crew and a captain with a spotty (non-existent) history at best.

Either way, she usually ignored the chain of command, lived in her little science bubble and only came out to offer sage advice or berate Callen when he needed it. To be honest, Callen was okay with that. He hadn't wanted to be captain after all (Vance had essentially ordered him out of black-ops) and felt woefully ill-equipped for the job. Hetty kept him on an even keel, Sam kept him sane and so far it was working out.

Until today, that is.

"Red alert," he reiterated and watched his crew snap to attention. Lieutenant Commander Marty Deeks tweaked his still-sparking pilot panel and grumbled miserably about awful captains, awful situations and a lack of pretty ambassadors (he was very depressed when he found out Ms. Dunne was still single because she had a bitter tongue and face to match), scrubbing a hand through messy blond hair until his nav partner Commander Kensi Blye elbowed him sharply and kicked his panel, causing the sparks to subside.

"_Enterprise_ detected," Kensi reported briskly a few seconds later, sharp brown eyes skimming her tactical screens quickly. "Blockade moving to intercept."

They waited on edge as suddenly the _Impala_'s plasma stopped leaking and the smaller ship wheeled on her pursuers as the _Enterprise _scattered enemy ships like skittles.

"Damn," Deeks whistled, watching the flagship go to work.

"I wonder what Admiral Vance had to do to get the _Enterprise_," Kensi wondered. Vance was a good guy but a brand new admiral and Pike guarded his two prize ships like a dragon. No one blamed the man either – _Enterprise_ alone got into more shit than any four ships in Starfleet.

"All right people, let's pull our weight," Callen ordered. "Shields up, maximum impulse. Deeks, you see a way out, you take it and don't look back."

They were slicing through the blockade when a strange pulse emanated from the planet, passing through every ship in the _Los Angeles'_ vicinity. Systems flickered, pulsed and died as _Enterprise _listed, controls obviously out of whack and the _Impala _frantically skipped backwards to avoid the weaponized wave.

"What the _hell_?" Eric squawked over the comm.

"I don't know but fix it fast!" Callen shot back.

"Controls not responding Captain, I've got nothing," Deeks said loudly but calmly.

Nell swivelled around. "_Enterprise _hailing!"

"On screen!"

An irritated captain with infamous blond hair and blue eyes was barking orders left and right. "Captain Callen, I assume you're experiencing the same trouble we are?"

"No controls, shields or weapons and yeah they took out a few of their own ships but they've got lots more to throw at us," Callen snapped, trying to think of a way out.

"Right," Kirk scowled. "Sulu, you got controls back?"

"Marginal, captain," the Asian pilot replied shortly.

Callen glanced at Deeks, who shook his head.

"Well shit," Callen mused laconically.

Kirk grinned suddenly. "Relax Callen, this is just another day at the office so far."

* * *

><p><em>Impala<em>

Dean was white-lipped at the moment, seriously re-considering his ban on virulent swearing while in command.

_Enterprise_ and _Los Angeles_, both big and scary ships, were out of commission and if that pulse was aimed at the _Impala_ again, the only way they'd be able to evade it was if they jumped to warp. And Dean wasn't in the habit of leaving his fellow ships behind but shit, there had to be at least forty ships in this blockade and while one on one or even four on one, _Impala_ could kick their asses, forty was stretching.

And there was the pulse, presumably waiting to wreak havoc with the _Impala_.

"Sam, tell me you have something that can defend against that wave," he barked.

His brother was bent over his console like a man possessed and didn't bother to reply, which meant that Sam was still stumped and the _Impala _was at the mercy of that strange beam.

"Captain!" Cas barked and Dean refocused on the _Enterprise_. Several enemy ships were closing in on the defenceless Constitution class ships and Dean gritted his teeth, coming to a crazy conclusion.

"Bring us about. We're going to engage."

* * *

><p><em>Los Angeles<em>

"What the hell?" Kensi voiced in disbelief as the _Impala_ charged to their rescue.

"The crazy idiot's gambling on that beam holding off so that the enemy ships can take us without losing more of their own. He wants to give us time to get our engines on line. Eric!" Callen bellowed.

"I'm going, I'm going!" the engineer shouted back.

"Go faster! Sam, get me those phaser arrays!"

"Oh _now_ you want them working," Sam complained, already stuck under the phaser control panel.

"Stop bitching and get it done," Callen snapped, the entire bridge humming with tension. A sputtered curse, a sparking connection and a quick twist with a socket wrench saw phaser control restored.

"There, happy?" Sam shot his captain a triumphant grin as Callen rolled his eyes in amused relief.

"Hold your fire. We're waiting for the right moment."

* * *

><p><em>Impala<em>

"Captain, picking up another ship's signal," Sam reported briefly. "It's Starfleet, Miranda-class. The _Washington._ They've been hiding behind that moon. Receiving transmission."

"On screen," Dean ordered, leaving Ash and Cas to stay on top of the battle.

The screen showed a silver-haired, older captain whose flat expression probably could have brought a Romulan to his knees. "Captain Winchester?" he drawled, supremely unconcerned by the enemy ships rapidly closing in on his position.

"That's me," Dean replied, more than a little curious. Vance's other wild card just happened to show up in the nick of time?

"Captain Leroy Jethro Gibbs, sent in as back up at the last minute," the captain barked out. "Our away team just returned from disabling that electromagnetic pulse weapon. It seems both the _Enterprise_ and _Los Angeles_ lack communication abilities. It's just us little ol' Miranda-classers."

Dean grinned widely, catching the note of sarcasm floating under perfect Starfleet regulation. This Gibbs guy was interesting already. "That's never been a problem for the _Impala_."

"Glad to hear it. See you on the other side. _Washington _out."

Dean cracked his knuckles. "Let's do this."

* * *

><p><em>Enterprise<em>

"Well this is embarrassing as hell."

The _Enterprise _crew fidgeted uneasily at their captain's chilly tone of voice.

They were sitting somewhat patiently as Scotty rebooted the electronics system. "I thought you had a plan in place for this sort of thing," Kirk commented and Scotty replied instantly.

"Capt'n, I put it into action as soon as we went under but she's a big lady and it takes time for the electronics to sort themselves out. Dinnae worry, we'll be up in time to save the day."

"I'm not sure we'll be necessary," Kirk said dryly. "Between Winchester and Gibbs, they're beating the shit out of everything in space."

That was when the planet's other moon discharged several larger, faster ships, definitely outclassing the plucky Miranda-class duo in firepower. "Scotty, you've got exactly," Kirk glanced at Spock.

"One minute, thirteen seconds."

"One minute, thirteen seconds to get us back in fighting shape or we're going to lose both Mirandas."

Scotty swore blithely in Gaelic and Russian (Kirk glanced at Chekov, whose ears were flushing bright red as he fidgeted guiltily) and the electronics all around the bridge flickered, wavered and glowed brightly. "You're up again, capt'n!"

"Excellent. Mr. Sulu, I believe we're going to engage their flagship. Spock, if they fire off that pulse again, I want to see it coming and be out of the way when it hits."

"Understood, captain."

_Enterprise_ roared into battle just in time to swoop over the _Washington _and take a rather massive hit from the new ships, spitting vicious fire in response.

* * *

><p><em>Los Angeles<em>

"Oh _hell_ no. We are not sitting here on our hands so those three can rescue us. _Eric!_"

"I got it, I got it, go, you're good!" The _Los Angeles_ bridge suddenly snapped alive with the hum of impulse engines as shield gauges rose to a respectable amount and the recalcitrant phaser arrays stopped stuttering alarmingly.

"Deeks, take us in and cover the _Enterprise_. Hetty, I want a mountable defense against that pulse before it shows up again." Callen barked orders as the _Los Angeles_ slipped into battle as the final chess piece.

* * *

><p><em>Washington<em>

"Well what do you know, they're not completely useless," Gibbs commented to his crew, who chuckled.

The _Washington_'s bridge was an unusual place. Where the _Enterprise_ would have crackled with electric energy and the _Impala_ hummed with tension, the _Washington_ was calm, almost relaxed. This crew had been together for years, slotting together seamlessly until they were a single fused unit and it took a hell of a lot more than a few colonists and their outdated star ships to rattle Captain Gibbs' crew.

"Abs, how are we doing?" the captain asked calmly.

"Absolutely fantastic! It'll take more than those peashooters to take out the _Washington._ But Gibbs, I have to tell you, if you let us get us get hit by that pulse-thingy, it's going to take more than a Caf-Pow for me to forgive you," the bubbly engineer replied, the clank of a torque-wrench accentuating her words.

Gibbs quirked a quick smile. "We took it out, remember?"

"Yeah but Ziva didn't manage to toast it. If they put it back together, we're screwed and the electronics are going to hate both you _and_ me for a very long time, which will be sad. Just saying."

"I hear you, now get back to work! Dinozzo."

"Holding a steady course, Boss. Can't lie, _Enterprise_ did a good job taking that big hit for us," his first officer and pilot replied shortly, focused on the job at hand. Dinozzo was a laid-back first officer, nicknaming just about everyone on the ship but he contrasted well with his captain on top of being as one hell of a pilot, completely devoted to the _Washington_'s crew.

"I have to concur, Captain," Science and Nav officer McGee chimed in. "Shields are good for the moment but by my estimates we only have about two of those big hits in us."

"All right, make sure they miss us or hit one of the big boys," Gibbs directed calmly. "Ziva, are communications back up yet?"

The Israeli security/communications officer spun around to nod. "We just established contact with Lieutenant Commander Uhura and Lieutenant Jones. Uhura states that _Enterprise _is currently running at 90% capacity while Jones admits the _Los Angeles_ is at about 75%. However, if that pulse comes through again, Commander Spock estimates that the damage will be much worse and the repair time too long to reengage in battle."

Gibbs stared unseeing at the screen as his ship shook under him and the crew calmly adjusted amidst whooping alarms until the bridge quieted. "Ziva, what are the odds of them putting that machine back together?"

Ziva smiled coldly. "I may not have been able to destroy the machine itself, but I uploaded a virus into the computer and took the control crystals. It is possible but not probable."

"All right. Let's go see if we can't shut down that space dock in the moon. No need to let any more big pests out."

* * *

><p><em>Los Angeles<em>

"Callen! _Washington _is making a break for the space dock!"

Callen glanced over to where Sam was directing ongoing repair efforts and keeping track of their allies. "Damn Gibbs. Deeks, cover the _Washington._" Just because it was a good idea didn't mean that a Miranda-class ship could pull it off on her own and he knew for a fact that Abby hadn't gotten the _Washington_'s augmented shields in place before this surprise mission.

The _Los Angeles_ sneakily covered the _Washington_, who scooted swiftly towards the moon. They got about halfway before the enemy noticed and _Impala_ added her offence to help the _Washington._

"Shields down 43% and falling, Captain! We're not going to hold!" Kenzie reported as they struggled against the overwhelming numbers.

"Where's _Enterprise_?" Callen demanded.

"_Enterprise_ is currently engaging twenty two of the enemy ships," Hetty supplied calmly.

"_Twenty-two?_" Callen squawked, mirroring everyone's reaction. "Damn. Eric, what does _Enterprise _have that we don't and how soon can you get it?"

There was an uncharacteristic amount of swearing from their mild-mannered engineer before he calmed down enough to reply that the _Los Angeles _had taken significantly more abuse than the _Enterprise_ and he was pretty sure from the last public reports that the _Enterprise_'s engineering section was not exactly Starfleet reg. Thus, the _Los Angeles_ was actually holding together better than expected and could Eric _please_ be left alone to keep the ship from falling apart?

Callen swallowed a smile at the tirade and nodded to Nell, who scooted off towards the lift. Hetty would cover communications and the multi-talented lieutenant would both assist in engineering and keep Eric from self-destructing or losing focus.

"All right everyone, our objective is to keep the _Washington _in one piece. _Enterprise_ can handle the ships in the clear. We want to keep the enemy ships from returning for repair or allowing fresh reinforcements to join them. Divert power to the shields and prepare to take a hammering," Callen ordered and everyone buckled in for the rough ride.

* * *

><p><em>Enterprise<em>

The _Enterprise_ crew was having fun. It was a rare occasion when all they had to do was kick the shit out of a large number of enemies without worrying about saving the galaxy, their comrades or a planet of innocents. Right now? They were just beating the shit out of every bad guy that popped up in front of them.

There were a lot of bad guys.

Good thing the _Enterprise_ was badass.

"Scotty, how are we doing?"

"Holding together, capt'n but I wouldnae like to take another big ship hit!"

"Spock, divert power from the phasers to the shields. We'll go with photon torpedoes, they seem to be more effective."

"Aye Captain."

"Bones, what's the casualty count?"

"No one dead yet Captain, just a few broken bones and rattled teeth from getting thrown around."

"Excellent. We're doing a great job people, keep hammering them!"

By the time _Enterprise_ ran out of enemies to blast into oblivion, they were in time to turn around and see the other three Starfleet ships implode the hollowed out moon and take the whole shipyard with them.

Kirk whistled. "Looks like Tango 9-B pissed off Winchester at the very least. Hail the other ships, Uhura."

The four-way conference involved quite a bit of not so subtle back-patting and congratulation.

Kirk and Winchester decided they could definitely like Callen and Gibbs, although the latter was quite different from their usual sort, being older than the other three by a significant chunk. "Where are you two putting into dock?" Gibbs asked gruffly.

Kirk and Winchester shrugged. "Closest star base, I guess."

"Like to pick your brains on the current state of affairs in the Neutral Zone."

Blinking at the taciturn captain, Kirk caught on first. Gibbs was inviting them for a night out on the town. "Sure. Starbase 5?"

Gibbs nodded. "Good enough."

* * *

><p><em>That night<em>

Uhura decided she liked the strange _Washington _engineer, non-regulation three inch goth boots and all. Commander Sciuto ("I'm Abby, Abby, Abby, don't call me Commander!") was friendly, vivacious and funny as anything ("Your engineer's Scottish? Has he named his still yet?") and immediately broke the ice between the Starfleet women all gathered around each other. The girls immediately started chattering amongst each other, Ellen holding court as the calm voice of reason.

Over in the 'nerd' corner of the small star base base, Eric, Chekov and Cas were throwing back alcohol with alarming frequency, challenging a boasting Deeks to a drinking game. In response to the younger command crew getting completely plastered, the first officers kept a wary eye on all of their respective crews even if Dinozzo's idea of keeping an eye out was to delegate the responsibility to a slightly distracted McGee. McGee had jointed the first officer group just to discuss computational theories with Spock and Sam Winchester while Sam Hanna listened in with mild interest, swirling a drink and smiling at the content scene surrounding them.

The older engineers, Hetty, McCoy and the _Washington_'s doctor Dr. Mallard ("Ducky," "Bones," was all that needed to be said and suddenly they were excellent friends) were busy skinning the youngest security ensigns at pool just to 'teach them a lesson' before their hard earned credits were cheated out of them by some snooty commander from another ship.

And the captains grouped themselves at the centre of the bar, not discussing the Romulan situation at all. "Damn good job you did out there today," Gibbs said to no one and everyone. "Sight better than most of the captains I've seen to date."

"That opinion the reason you were stuck on ore runs until Admiral Vance yanked you out?" Kirk asked baldly, pretty sure Gibbs appreciated a straight shooter.

The older captain laughed quietly. "I told an admiral to go to hell before hijacking my ship to rescue my crew and ended up saving four solar systems in the process. They couldn't retire me or demote me but they sure as hell tried to retire me through boredom." He tossed back a whisky. "Crew stuck with me, sentimental idiots that they are."

Dean chuckled. "Takes one to know one."

"Watch it, maverick."

Callen grinned, a flash of white teeth in the shadowy bar. "Looks like life's going to get interesting."


End file.
